


Coming Home

by BionicallyIronic



Series: The Importance of Pop Culture Awareness [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Because you're going to get a cavity, Darcy is a bamf, F/M, Fluff, I hope you've got a dentist on call, Pure Unadulterated Fluff, Why would you even try to mug the Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BionicallyIronic/pseuds/BionicallyIronic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the hell happened to her?” Bucky asked, as he headed back toward the bar and helped Darcy wiggle her way back onto the bar stool.</p><p>“I’d say alcohol happened to her,” Tony said as he pushed a lowball glass into Darcy’s gimme gimme fingers. </p><p>“Attempted mugging,” Natasha said as she hopped onto the counter. She lined up a neat row of shot glasses and began to pour what smelled like vodka into each one.</p><p>“She was mugged?!”</p><p>“Check your selective hearing, Barnes,” Natasha said as she put a shot glass in his hand. “I said attempted.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

“Sergeant Barnes?”

It took Bucky a few moments to wrench his eyes away from the page of the borrowed book he was reading. Shit was going down at Bill Weasley’s wedding and goddammit, he just wanted those wizard kids to have a little bit of happiness for a change. With a sigh, he tucked the flap of the dust jacket in between the pages to mark his place.

“Yeah, Jarv?”

“I believe you are aware that Ms. Lewis went out to celebrate her promotion this evening?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said slowly, his gaze tracking to the ceiling as though that was where Jarvis resided.

Apparently Pepper had been watching Darcy, all too aware of the fact that the lab assistant was not only able to keep Jane in line, but Tony and Bruce as necessary. Pepper clearly thought those skills would translate well to keeping _all_ of the Avengers in line, and she had offered Darcy a promotion to be their PR liaison. And as no promotion could go by without a celebration, Pepper had taken Darcy, Jane, Natasha, and Maria out to celebrate.

“It appears that she and the others have returned from dinner,” Jarvis said, “and have absconded to the penthouse. Ms. Lewis is rather insistent that you join her there as soon as possible.”

“Is she okay?”

Bucky would never cease to be amazed at the myriad of inflection Jarvis could manage. Right now, he could imagine the AI as the posh British butler he sounded like, hands worrying at each other and gaze glued to the heavens, as though the right words might be written there.

“Ms. Lewis was quite clear that I should tell you not to worry, but-”

Bucky was out the door before the AI could finish the sentence. The elevator doors opened as he ran down the hall, and once the ride up began, Bucky waved his hand with a roll of his wrist toward the camera, urging the AI to finish what he’d been saying. “What happened to Darcy, Jarvis?”

“I've been informed that there was an incident.”

“Gonna need more info than that, Jarv.”

Before Jarvis could fill him in, the elevator opened up to the penthouse. Darcy, who had been perched upon a black leather stool by the bar, watching Tony make her another cocktail, swiveled around and squealed, “Bucky!”

And then he had a Darcy-shaped cannon ball headed his way.

In the four seconds it took for her to cross the living room, Bucky had time to notice that the lacy red dress she’d started the night in had a black-ish stain near the hem, her dark stockings gaped at her right knee, revealing a bloody scrape, and her heels were in a sad little heap by the elevator. Then Darcy threw herself at Bucky, trusting he would catch her. He did, as he had dozens of times before, his arms settling beneath her thighs to support her, mindful of the wound on her knee.

Her mouth spread in a slow, smooth smile, one lubricated by happiness and at least a few drinks. Tendrils of hair had escaped the careful updo he'd watched her create earlier that evening, brushing against her cheeks. “James, your mouth is so pretty. Like cherries. No! Like someone crushed a cherry between their fingers and ran it- ” she took the first two fingers of her hand and ran them along Bucky’s lips, bottom then top, over and over “-here.”

No one else in the room - Hill, seated at the bar next to the stool Darcy had vacated, Natasha, who was balancing against the couch while she shucked her shoes, or Tony, who was dividing god only knew what into two glasses - seemed that worried, so Bucky tried to calm down.

“What the hell happened to her?” Bucky asked, as he headed back toward the bar and helped Darcy wiggle her way back onto the bar stool.

“I’d say alcohol happened to her,” Tony said as he pushed a lowball glass into Darcy’s _gimme gimme_ fingers.

“Attempted mugging,” Natasha said as she hopped onto the counter. She lined up a neat row of shot glasses and began to pour what smelled like vodka into each one.

“She was mugged?!”

“Check your selective hearing, Barnes,” Natasha said as she put a shot glass in his hand. “I said _attempted_.”

Attempted or not, Bucky’s brow still furrowed, and he tipped back his shot. Trust Tony to have only the best vodka in his bar, and Natasha to find it.

“Right,” Darcy said. “Punk didn't get that far 'cause I’m a boss ass bitch.” She balanced her toes on the support bars of the stool and reached over to high five Maria, and Bucky darted over to grab onto her hips so that her stocking feet wouldn’t slip. High five completed (Maria smirking the whole damn time), Bucky made sure Darcy sat back down before going to the other side of the bar looking for supplies to clean up her knee.

After shoving Stark out of the way, Bucky managed to scrounge up a towel and a small bowl, which he filled with water. “Could one of you please tell me why my girlfriend had to be a boss ass bitch?”

"I'm _always_ a boss ass bitch," Darcy responded as she took a gulp of her drink.

He kneeled in front of Darcy, who looked down at him like she was going to eat him for dinner. As if to confirm his thoughts, she snapped her teeth and gave him a wink so exaggerated, he had to smile. "Yes you are, doll."

Bucky threw a look at Hill, who was most likely to give him a straight up answer.

Hill tossed back the shot Natasha slid her way. “We had just left the sushi place and were walking toward a bar at the end of the block. Perp must have recognized Pepper and made a grab for her purse. Nat and I were walking a few steps ahead, were just a couple of seconds late to try to stop it, but Darcy clocked him.”

Bucky slid a hand under Darcy's skirt, ignoring the waggling of her eyebrows over their suggestive position, released the thigh high from the garter strap, and carefully pulled her ruined stocking off her leg. The scrape looked worse than it actually was, thankfully, but Darcy hissed as Bucky dabbed the wet towel at her knee. She leaned down, offering her cheek to him. “Kiss it better.”

Though his heart still was still all tangled up and constricted at the thought of Darcy in trouble, Bucky laughed, and pressed his lips to her smooth cheek. The lingering spicy scent of her perfume mixed with the copper penny tang of her blood and something else that was just _Darcy_ , and Bucky wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, holding his forehead to hers so he could breathe her in and know she was safe.

But Darcy, high off endorphins or booze or both, reeled back and pointed at Pepper as the woman entered the room. “Tell Bucky Bear how I was a BAMF, Pep!”

“Bucky Bear?” Stark asked over the rim of his glass, eyebrows arched high.

“Shut it, Stark,” Bucky said gruffly, directing his attention back to Darcy’s scrape and hoping that the flush running up his face wasn't noticeable from where his teammate was standing. He was going to hear about _that_ in the morning  

“What’s a BAMF?” Pepper asked. Pepper must have been in search of a first aid kit, because she handed one off to Bucky before taking the shot Natasha held in her direction. Her heels clicked smartly on the hardwood floor, and not a hair was out of place. The only sign she was rattled over almost being a mugging victim was the way she flicked her head back to let the liquor run down her throat.

“A Bad Ass Mother Fucker,” Jane said. There was a woozy lilt to her voice, and Bucky realized he hadn’t seen her when he came in because she was stretched out on the couch.

Darcy leaned toward Bucky again, one hand held to her mouth as though about to relay a great secret, though she was loud enough for every poor shmuck working the graveyard shift to hear her. “Janey’s a light weight. One martini and look at her.”

Like a zombie rising from the grave, Jane lurched up, draping her arms over the back of the sofa to steady herself. The back of her hair stuck out at odd angles from lying on the couch, completely at odds with the sleek strands around her face. “You’re one to talk, Drunky McDrunkerson!”

“What?!” Darcy crossed her legs, Bucky’s first aid ministrations completely forgotten for the moment, and tried to arrange her rubber band arms neatly on top of them. She failed twice before she was satisfied. “I’m cool, man.”

“You knocked a guy out while hammered?” Bucky asked. Admiration for his girl bloomed in his chest, warming him from head to toe.

“Noooo,” Darcy said, another of those slippery grins taking over her face, “I knocked him out while tipsy. Then Tash gave me a celebratory glass of champagne in the limo and ice for my hand and a shot when we got here and then Tony gave me this.” She waggled the dregs of her most recent cocktail in his face.

Aww, hell, he hadn’t even thought about her hand. He gently took her right hand in his own, noting only faint bruising around her knuckles. “You put your thumb outside your fist, right, Doll?”

“Psh. Duh.” She knocked back what was left of her drink and held the glass out to Tony. “Another!”

As Tony drained his drink and then began to mix up a new batch for each of them, Bucky and Pepper shared a look, one that said they both knew they would be nursing hung over partners in the morning.

“Tony,” Pepper said, “are we sure Darcy isn’t your love child?”

“Unfortunately she's not,” Tony said. “We ran the DNA.”

In unison, he and Darcy added, “Twice.”

“God, could you imagine what they'd get up to if she was?” Hill said. The three women left standing and Bucky all shuddered collectively, took the last shots Natasha had laid out, and downed them.

“But how did the skinned knee happen?” Bucky asked as he hunted through the first aid kit for a bandage big enough to cover it. There weren’t any, so he settled for a square of gauze and set to work taping it down.

“Tripped getting back into the limo,” Darcy said sheepishly.

Bucky stood, resting his hands on her hips and bumping his forehead up against hers. “You tripped getting back into the limo.”

She had her lower lip caught up in her teeth, but she was smiling. “Yup.”

He huffed a laugh and gave her a quick, chaste kiss. “I’m going to take you home now, doll.”

“Home,” she whined, “take me to your place, not all the way back home.”

And he blinked. When he said ‘home,’ he had fully intended to take her back to his apartment in the tower, partly out of convenience, because they were already in the building and her place was ten minutes away by cab, but also because they spent more nights there than not. But even then, that wouldn’t have mattered, because to him, home was his place, so long as she was there, or her place, when he was there.

And he realized that he had felt that way for a while now.

He didn’t say anything, just scooped her up, reminded her to wave good-bye to everyone because he knew they'd be right back up here if she forgot, and brought her to his place.

By the time morning light was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, coloring everything in the room golden, Bucky knew he was sure. He slipped out of bed and walked to the flower shop on the corner, buying their entire stock of tulips, which Darcy loved. Then he hit up the coffee shop by the tower, where he got Darcy’s usual and a big box of pastries. The flowers went into a vase, and everything was crowded onto the nightstand closest to Darcy. He added a couple of ibuprofen for her hangover, too.

Bucky stepped out of his jeans and crawled back into bed, wrapping himself around Darcy and waiting for the scent of fresh coffee to wake her. It took a few minutes, but soon enough she began to stretch, back arching and arms reaching for the headboard. Her gaze fell to the tulips, to the still steaming coffee and the pastries that shone with a glaze of butter. Then she rolled into Bucky’s chest and skritched at his stubbled chin.

“What’s all that for?”

Bucky ducked down to give her a quick kiss. He loved the way she was when she just woke up, all soft and rumpled and gentle. His fingers dug into her hips, and the contented little hum she made buzzed through him. When he broke away, her eyes were closed but she was grinning, and it all just made him so damned _happy_.

“Let’s move in together.”

Her eyes flew open, and the fear that he had read the situation wrong coursed through him, but he plowed ahead with his reasoning anyway.

“It doesn’t have to be here. I know you were putting off living in the tower so you could separate work and your private life, and I want you to know that I’ll go where you want to go. Just so long as I can be with you. It’d be good. Coming home to you, waking up to you…it’s your decision, but I want this, and I hope you want it, too, Darce.”

"Won't that go against your 1940s sensibilities?" She gnawed at her lower lip and there was a tightness around her eyes that he hated to see.

"Couldn't care less about that, Darcy. My sensibilities have been mangled and reshaped and all I care about is you, and being as close to you as you'll let me be."

And then her mouth was on his and in between kisses she tried to tell him all the reasons it would be horrible to co-habitate with her.

“I’m going to have like fifty lipsticks all over your bathroom counter and they’re all red.”

“Don’t care.”

“You’re going to have to do all the cooking, because I suck at cooking.”

“You think I don’t know that already? You’ll have to do the baking, though.”

“Of course I’m going to do the baking. We’re going to have to find room for all my books.”

“Doll, you keep bringin’ ‘em over and leaving 'em here anyway. Did you even notice I have all your Harry Potters?”

She pressed closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck until she was talking into the hollow of his throat, and he into the wild curls of her hair. “Well, where my Harry Potters go, I must follow.”

“That a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes, you big lug.”

“Here?”

“Yeah. This place is bigger, your oven doesn’t bake things at an angle because it’s set into the wall funny, plus commute by elevator is pretty hard to beat.”

His heart was too big for his chest, full to bursting with joy. But when it continued to beat on, he brought his lips down to hers and kissed her one more time.

“Well then. Welcome home, Darcy.”

**Author's Note:**

> While my plan had been to make each installment of this series revolve around a popular song in a very blatant way, Coming Home by the 88 was more obscure but absolutely perfect. (Video here: http://www.vevo.com/watch/the-88/Coming-Home/USUV70806927) Snatches of Bucky's dialogue when he's trying to convince Darcy to live together are either from the song or heavily inspired by the song.


End file.
